


It's all about trust

by liliaeth



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Bottom Jensen, Dubious Consent, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Slave Jensen, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 06:34:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5574628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liliaeth/pseuds/liliaeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's owner takes him to an experienced slave trainer to help him get over his skittishness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's all about trust

Being a slave sucked. If there was anything that Jensen was certain of, it was that. It wasn’t just the threat of ‘discipline’, that was there whenever his ‘master’ gave him an order, or the fact that Master got to decide what clothes, if any, Jensen got to wear. None of which were like anything that Jensen would have chosen to wear if he’d had a choice about any of it. Even the having to follow orders wasn’t the worst part. That wasn’t so much different from his parents constantly telling him what to do. In many ways Master seemed less likely to get pissed off when he wasn’t fast enough to instantly do whatever he was told, than Dad had been. 

No, the worst part of being a slave, was the humiliation of getting treated as if he didn’t have a brain of his own. Like he was a particularly dumb dog that needed to be treated with understanding, so that he wouldn’t spook. Which was exactly the reason that they were currently in a building uptown, one with carpets softer to kneel on, than any couch he’d ever been on when he’d been free. Add that to the list of humiliations, as a slave he was no longer allowed on the furniture, not without Master’s explicit permission.

Jensen kept his head down, desperately not looking at Master who was sitting on the chair next to him. He’d noticed several pictures of other slaves in training as they came in, but was desperately keeping himself from looking at any of them. He didn’t want to get punished for looking around when he could avoid it. He’d only been a slave for a week now, but he’d seen enough movies to know that he’d better keep his head down, literally as well as figuratively, until his Master told him otherwise. 

Master was only two years older than Jensen himself, but unlike Jensen himself, Master was a spoiled brat who seemed to think that drinking from a previously opened bottle was a disgrace. Not that Jensen minded that too much, since it meant that Jared tended to let him finish whatever his owner and his friends had started.

The mark on the back of his neck was itching again, and he had the fight the urge to scratch the annoyance. Master had told him to keep his hands off of it, but that was easier said than done. 

A door opened, and Jensen took a quick look at the man entering the room before returning his eyes where they belonged. The man came up to Master, as Master got up from his chair and offered his hand.

“Mister Morgan.” 

“Call me Jeff. It’s a pleasure to see you mister Padalecki, is it ok if I call you Jared?” Master nodded, a smile on his face. Jensen wasn’t sure what to think of it.

“I’m guessing this is your new boy?”

Both turned their attention towards Jensen, making him cringe under the attention.

“Yep, this is my Jensen. Mother said that you could help me out with him?”

Now Jensen was really starting to get worried. He hadn’t been disobedient, had he? He’d tried to be good, had tried not to cause trouble with his first owner or his owner’s family.

“What’s the problem?” Jensen really wanted to know that as well. Master’s fingers played through Jensen’s hair and the boy couldn’t help but cringe at the touch.

“Ah, you poor boy.” Morgan looked over him and Jensen wanted to sink into the ground.

“It’s not that he’s disobedient, but he’s so skittish.”

Morgan chuckled. Jensen wanted to glare at them both. Skittish? Who wouldn’t be, when your owner could have you beaten, abused, starved and there was nothing you could do or say to stop it. Because you were their property, and you should be happy with whatever they gave you.

“Nothing like a fresh new slave.” Jeff’s fingers moved over Jensen’s hair. “Sure, they lack the experience and training of a slave trained from birth,” down his cheek and over his neck, Jensen wanted to push into it, let the man get rid of the itch on his mark “but they lack the cunning and shielding of a lifelong slave, making their reactions much more honest. Aren’t they, boy.” Jensen swallowed as Morgan’s fingers rubbed away the itch before moving down his back. “Such a beautiful responsive boy that this is.”

Jensen almost cried as his owner’s fingers touched the handle on the harness forming a cross over his torso, pulling it tighter and tightening its grip.

“There there, boy.”

“My name’s Jensen”, is what he wanted to say, “not boy”. But he wasn’t that stupid.

“Do you see that struggle, Jared. That battle inside of him, between obedience and standing up for himself.”

“Struggle?”

“Of course, Jared. You didn’t think that obedience came easy for someone who used to be free, now did you?”

“I guess not.” Master laid his hand down on Jensen’s back, Jensen’s heartbeat drummed under his skin. “Figure I wasn’t thinking about it too much.”

Morgan knelt down beside Jensen, his hands looming all over Jensen’s body, kneading his genitals, making him flinch away from the touch before he could stop himself. Cold sweat broke out all over him.

“There there boy, you didn’t do anything wrong. Your Master understands that this isn’t easy for you. He knows that you’re trying. Don’t you, Jared.”

Master didn’t answer with words, he just kept his fingers on Jensen’s back, his touch gentle and warm. Jensen knew he was supposed to find his owner’s touch steady and supportive, but he couldn’t help but be terrified of it instead.

“One thing you need to understand about training new slaves, is that what matters isn’t so much whether they fail or succeed in proper behavior. What matters is whether they actually try to do better. I have seen many good slaves ruined, because their owners didn’t have the patience to give them the time to learn trust. They spend so much time getting their slaves to fear them, that they end up with a broken mess, instead of a loyal and obedient servant.”  
Morgan remained at Jensen’s level, looking him in the eyes as he spoke. Even as Jensen tried to look away, the man, who was obviously a slave trainer, held his gaze in a lock, refusing to let him go. 

“And what if I want a pet, instead of a servant.”

“Then earning your slave’s trust is even more important. You wouldn’t want to sleep in a room with a slave who only obeys their fear of you. It’s how slave revolts happen, when the fear of what their owners might do to them is stronger, than their fear of dying. “

Trust? What trust? How was Jensen supposed to trust someone who literally held his life in their hands, when he hadn’t even chosen to trust them. He’d never been able to trust anyone, well maybe his brother Josh. But even Josh hadn’t been able to keep his word when he’d promised Jensen that he’d always look after him and Mac. Josh had tried, but then Dad had sold Josh the day he’d turned eighteen. And Jensen had known then that the same fate awaited him and his sister as soon as they were old enough to be sold themselves. To their father, they were nothing but assets, an investment to ensure that he’d one day level up his social class. Maybe one day he’d have children that he’d actually care about, but Jensen, Josh and Mac weren’t born for that purpose. 

And Mom, well once she realized that truth, she’d done everything in her power to let go of them, just so she wouldn’t have to care too much when she lost them for real. Taking her birth control almost religiously, just to make sure she wouldn't give her husband even more children to take away from her. 

Legally, freeborn couldn’t be sold as slaves before they turned eighteen. It was supposed to protect children, keep them from being bought by pedophiles. To give them a chance at freedom. But since children were considered property of their parents until they were legally independent, it just meant that kids had to live longer with the weight of the future hanging over them, knowing what awaited them.

Jensen hadn’t been the only kid in his class with the threat of slavery hanging over him. Most of the ones that did, just tried to focus on studying skills that would actually make them useful. Anything that could keep them from getting sold to the mines, and the life expectancy of a year at most.

He hated that. Jensen knew he was smart enough to go to college, he knew he was skilled enough to be an engineer, a computer scientist, or even a doctor. But there had been no point in studying for any of that. Only very few people bought slaves to send them off to college, and Jensen’s grades hadn’t been ‘that’ high.

So now he was stuck with what few skills he had, he was better with a computer than most kids his age, was decent at math, had a good ear for music, could play a few instruments, and had been one of his school’s top male cheerleaders, which according to the auctioneer had meant that he’d been setting himself up to be a ‘personal slave’, a position just a step above sex toy as far as the brochures were concerned. And all his owner saw in him was a human shaped dog that he could keep around to show off. Where was trust supposed to show up in any of that?

“The problem is that his head’s too full of thoughts. He needs to learn to focus on pleasing his Master. Any thought beyond that is a distraction.”

Jensen shivered at the thought, the very idea that even his thoughts wouldn’t be free was terrifying. But then again, this was slavery, not just a job that he couldn’t come home from.

“Up.” Jensen instantly got to his feet as fast as he could, standing still as the free man inspected him and his posture, which got tutted over as definitely not correct. He tried to obey the guy’s corrections, but more often than not the difference lay in inches of hand or foot placement and it was hard to get it right. 

By the time the guy was done, Jensen was ready to have his brain seep out of his head, just trying to focus on getting the position right. So he wasn’t exactly happy when the teacher told Master to keep practicing the positions with him in order to get them right by their next session. 

Jensen was so exhausted that he almost didn’t care when Mister Morgan told Master to keep focusing on touching him, until he was used to having his owners hands on every part of his body. He didn’t want to think of anything at that point. But then he guessed, that was the whole point wasn’t it? To stop thinking?

Master made him sit at his feet during the car ride and Jensen tried to squeeze himself into the place at his master’s feet. His legs cramped, but he knew that stretching them out wasn’t an option. It was almost a comfort and easier to stay calm when Master told him to nuzzle his crotch through his pants. 

That night, Jensen lay on his pillow at the foot of his owner’s bed, wondering if this really was his purpose in life? He knew that legally, he’d never be free again. Slaves couldn’t be freed. They’d tried that, and supposedly it just added insecurity to a slave’s life and left them open for abuse and a life of poverty once freed. Owners would just get rid of slaves that got too old, and would feel good at abandoning their property on the streets, never caring what their slaves lives were like once they were no longer their owner’s responsibility. 

So knowing that, wouldn’t it be best to work with Mister Morgan, be the best slave he could be, so that his owner would be happy with him and want to keep him as long as possible. Why fight, when doing so wouldn't help him avoid any of it? It would just make his life harder, and in the end he’d give in anyway. That or they’d have to put him down for being a threat. And no matter how much he hated all of this, he wasn’t tired of life just yet.

So when that next morning, life went back to the way it had been before, and Jensen just had to follow his owner to college, sitting at his master’s feet during class; and at most carrying his owner’s laptop and bookbag, it was almost disappointing.

Jensen hated how many of Master’s classmates just sat there talking during the lecture, not caring about the chance they’d been given. Master at least, for all that he could be spoiled, did spent his time paying attention, writing his own notes, and asking questions that made sense to both the teacher and Jensen. 

The college was beautiful, one of those expensive places that Jensen would never have been allowed into, even if he hadn’t been sold. And it was difficult not to listen to the lecturer even as Jensen was supposed to just sit there and look pretty while Master took classes. A few times he had to stop himself from asking his own questions. But that would be like a dog disrupting the class and was a sure fire way to get himself sent to the kennels until his owner was done with class.

Master spent some time in between classes making Jensen practice his positions, touching Jensen as often as possible while he did so. By the time they were finished, Jensen was a livewire, ready to go off at the slightest incentive. The next class came close to torture.

When they got back to Morgan’s School for Happy Slaves that evening, Jensen wished that Master would just have his mind erased, it would at least be easier. But Master wasn’t that kind of owner, or at least he’d said he wasn’t.

This time they spent some time outside of Mister Morgan’s private office and in a small gym, large enough for Master to teach Jensen how to walk on a leash. The whole point was to teach Jensen to keep an eye on his owner and judge when Master would stop, so he’d be able to freeze in place, and if needed get to his knees, instead of bumping into the man. 

By the end of the hour, Jensen’s knees were hurting from going to his knees as fast as possible. And Mister Morgan made Master massage Jensen’s knees, smearing some kind of creme on them that pulled at least some of the heat out of them. 

He was so focused on that, that he missed a final conversation between Master and Mister Morgan, seeing as how Master took Jensen to a slave store right after class. 

Jensen tried to stay as close to his owner as possible, as Master made his way through the shop, checking out equipment, some of which made Jensen’s balls want to crawl back inside his body.

He tried to focus on holding on to the basket Master had given him, without looking too much at what Master was putting into it. Cold sweat broke out over his back when they stopped at a series of butt plugs. The ones standing there were supposed to be for training purposes. Master bought an entire series, stating that it might take Jensen some training before he was ready for his owner’s cock. When Master added one that was large enough to remind Jensen of a small baseball bat, Jensen was about ready to scream. Instead his fingers went white holding the basket. Jensen closed his eyes, trying to calm his breath, when he opened them again, he noticed another slave watching him. The man just smirked, before calling over his own Master, pulling the man’s attention to something on the shelves in front of them.

Jensen knew he was an innocent, by all meanings of the word. His father had wanted to keep him unsoiled since it would increase his price when sold. The worst punishment he’d ever gotten in his life, was when his father had caught him looking at a slave porn magazine when he’d been fifteen. Dad hadn’t cared that he’d just wanted to know what awaited him. By the time the man was finished with punishing him, there hadn’t been a part of his body that wasn’t black and blue. Nothing permanent, that would have lowered his value, but Father knew all the ways to cause pain that wouldn’t leave any permanent marks. None of the teachers at school had cared. They already knew that Josh had been sold a few weeks before his graduation; and Dad wasn’t exactly shy about his plans for his other children either. One of Jensen’s teachers had once given him a set of slave rules to read instead of college pamphlets when career day came to school. Jensen had been furious, he’d still memorized the pamphlet.

At least he’d known that he was just as interested in men as he was in women before he’d been sold. Dad didn’t mind, especially since it helped add up value. It wasn’t that a slave’s sexuality mattered in the end, but it did help when a slave didn’t have to be trained into responding to another gender. It saved time.

Jensen had known that his first sexual experience would be with the person that would own him, since he’d been fourteen. It had only served to heighten his fear of the very idea of it. He’d almost expected for Master to fuck him as soon as he’d bought him. But it hadn’t happened. By now Jensen almost wished the man would just get it over with, because the longer it took master to get to it, the more terrifying the thought of it felt.

When Master ordered Jensen in the shower with him, Jensen froze in the door, staring at his owner’s naked body. Master just smiled and threw him a sponge, ordering Jensen to clean him. Jensen desperately tried not to stare down as he rubbed the sponge slowly downward, then right up to his owner’s legs.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Jensen nearly choked, but he swallowed deeply before moving the sponge up and reaching out for his owner’s cock and balls. Maybe Master had been kind by buying that dildo, instead of just showing that thing between his legs inside of Jensen. Maybe that’s what Mister Morgan meant with trusting his owner. That Jensen should consider himself lucky to have an owner who cared enough to prepare him, instead of just using him and throwing him out once done.

Master’s dick hardened under Jensen’s touch and to Jensen’s surprise the flesh in his hands grew both broader and longer. It made Jensen want to run screaming out of the shower, bathroom and even the house, naked or not. But he wasn’t crazy enough to do that either. Instead he continued his work, when he was done, Master took over the sponge and started cleaning Jensen as well, paying particular attention to Jensen’s genitals and asshole. 

By the time they were finished, the water was turning cold and still Jensen couldn’t help how hard his dick was. 

“No touching.” Master said, and Jensen quickly pulled his hands to his side. Master patted a surface next to the sink, telling Jensen to lean over it. Jensen quickly followed orders. 

“We’ll try a few of the small ones first, I promise. I know you’re scared, but you know now that this is necessary. Don’t you, Jensen.”  
Jensen quickly nodded.

“Words, Jensen.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good boy.” Master patted him on his back before leaving him lying on the cold slab of marble as he went and got the set of training plugs. His fingers felt warm compared to the stone, as they gently massaged the rim of his asshole, using a lotion that he got out of one of the cupboards. “We’re going to try and increase the size a few times tonight, and then by the time we’ll head to bed, you’ll be sleeping with one of them inside of you. “

“Yes, Master.”

Screaming seemed a better option with every passing second.

“Before long, you’ll be sleeping with me inside of you, so it’s best if you get used to having something inside of you at all times.”

Jensen had to swallow at that promise. 

“Jeff said that next class we’ll be focusing on cock warming. I can hardly wait to have those lips of yours surrounding me. I’m sure you’ll be great at it “ It all sounded so normal, like of course Jensen would enjoy servicing his owner, and of course that was something you did, sitting there with someone’s dick in your mouth. But the thing is, for slaves it was a normal part of their duties. Hell plenty of the other slaves in Master’s class did so to their owners. Jensen couldn’t imagine getting fucked that publicly, but he knew that he’d have to get used to it eventually. He just hoped that Master would be patient enough to give him the time to do so.

“Hey,” Master caressed the small of Jensen’s back, before moving his fingers back down Jensen’s crack, when he first pushed one finger passed the rim and inside Jensen’s hole, Jensen wasn’t sure what he was feeling, part of it was like he had to hold back from going to the toilet. Relaxing as Master told him to do was easier said than done. By the time Master pushed in a second finger, Jensen did scream. Master quickly pulled out, gently rubbing over Jensen’s back. “Shhh, it’s all going to be fine.

“I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t mean…”

“I know, my boy. I know. Let’s try that again, this time I’ll give you plenty of warning.” And he did, until there was a third finger inside of Jensen and Jensen felt wide open and stuffed to the brim at the same time. When Master finally pushed in the first of the plugs, all Jensen could think of was: “What if he had to go to the toilet soon?”

But Master had already thought of that, since the next thing that happened, before they tried the second plug, was to clean Jensen out appropriately, making sure he was truly empty, before stuffing him full with a slightly larger piece of plastic.

By the time they went to sleep, Jensen had a pink 3.5 inch plug inside of him. Master just hugged him before sending him to bed. And Jensen lay there, half the night, trying to find a way to lie down comfortably, so he wouldn’t have to feel the thing inside of him. The fact that he was hard all the way through it, was a side note compared to that.

It still didn’t prepare him for the next morning, when Master taught him how to clean himself and showed him how to put in the newest plug himself. He was supposed to get himself ready for the largest version before they got to Morgan’s that evening. Getting himself changed in the slave toilets was easy enough, at least the place was clean, and when one of the other slaves saw what he was doing she helped him with some advice in how to get himself open enough to change his plug. He blushed at how matter of fact she was about it. But then again, why wouldn’t she be, they were no more than property and what reason did property have to be ashamed over serving its owners?

Jensen quickly washed his hands afterwards and stared into the mirror to make sure he looked fine. He couldn’t show any tears, or at least not too many.

Master was waiting in the hallway, and Jensen quickly knelt, allowing Master to attach his leash before heading to lunch.

That evening, Jensen spent most of his own class getting used to covering up his teeth, breathing through his nose, and staying comfortable with a dick the size of a baseball bat down his throat. It was easier said than done. By the time they were done, Jensen’s throat was sore as hell and Master cared enough to buy him an ice-cream to praise him for how well he’d done. It almost made it worth it. At least Master didn’t expect him to fully swallow him down that evening when they watched television, he allowed Jensen to just hold the tip of Master’s dick inside of him, keeping him nicely warm. By the time the movie was over, Jensen was almost ready to fall asleep. Master pulled him into his own bed with him, Master’s hard dick pushing at the latest new plug inside of him. Master said Jensen was almost ready for him. Jensen wasn’t so sure of that.

They continued on with the cock sucking classes, the next time they got to Mister Morgan’s school. It took Jensen a few more days of practice before he fully got over his gag reflex. By that time Mister Morgan had them practicing alongside a few other of his students in an advanced class. It was supposed to get Jensen used to serving in public. One of the other slaves wore cuffs, restraints and had to use a special kind of ring gag for his owner to be able to use his mouth without the slave threatening to bite his dick off. 

Jensen was glad that his Master at least didn’t see the need for using any of those on him. He decided to try and do better to make sure that Master didn’t change his mind on that. When they went home, Master told him how proud he was of Jensen. He said that none of the other slaves were as good as Jensen had been, nor had they advanced in their classes as fast as Jensen had. Jensen was allowed to sleep in his owner’s bed that night as well. 

It was the first time that he got his owner’s actual dick inside of him. It felt like being hit by an earthquake. Jensen had never felt so good in his life. Master had even allowed him to come. Sure he told Jensen that he shouldn’t be expecting that to happen every single time, but he'd still allowed it that once, because it had been Jensen's first time.  
Jensen was grateful.

When Master’s mother came into the room the next morning, Jensen wasn’t sure what to do, but since Master had told him he wasn’t supposed to get out of bed until Master told him to do so, he decided to stay in place. He was too sticky to move anyway.

Master woke up, looking a bit scruffy, as usual. And Master’s mother reminded him that he had agreed to have breakfast with her. Jensen wanted to go get breakfast for both of them. But Master wouldn’t let him, taking him to the shower first and telling him to stay at his feet instead. Jensen was wearing the largest buttplug now. It felt almost comfortable, sitting at Master’s feet, out of sight of the strange woman who was important to Master, and getting fed by his absent minded owner’s hand. Jensen was sure he was getting more of the food than he was supposed to; but he didn’t really mind. And it wasn’t really up to him to decide what he did or did not get to eat. Right?

“So how are classes going, Jared?” The two talked about school, both Master’s and Jensen’s. And Master’s mother seemed delighted at Jensen’s progress. 

“Have you considered signing him up for slave shows?” The woman suddenly said. “His posture seems perfect already, and he is quite beautiful.”

Master took another look at Jensen. “I’m not sure, I hadn’t thought that far.”

“You could ask Jeff. He got Danneel ready for me, and now she’s winning ribbons at every show I’ve been to in the past few years. You know, now that I think of it, you haven’t had him neutered yet, right?”

“Mom!”

“What? Nothing wrong with breeding a good line.”

“He was free less than three weeks ago, Mom. I’m sure we don’t have to talk about using him as a stud until he’s ready for it.”

“Pff, boy like that, he’s better off as a slave. At least now his best assets are of use to him. Boy like that shouldn’t have to starve himself just to get by.”  
She went on a long diatribe about all the hardships lower class free men and women had to go through, and Jensen couldn’t help but agree with her on many of them. Yet somehow, getting fed and taken care off in exchange for his freedom, still didn’t feel like a good trade.

In the end when Master allowed Jensen to serve as a cockwarmer during the rest of breakfast, it was almost a comfort. Jensen had never figured himself to be so orally fixated as he seemed to be now. But at least it was a nice distraction.

Mistress Sherri seemed delighted at how eagerly he followed his owner’s commands. 

By the end of the woman’s visit, Jensen was now wearing a new collar that Mistress Sherri said went with his eyes, and Master had him signed up for a show in less than a month. Jensen was terrified. But that was becoming part of the norm for his new life.

Master Jared talked to Mister Morgan about it, and before Jensen knew it, he was now spending most of his time getting trained to do routines that made his old cheerleader moves look suited for kindergärtners. Jensen couldn’t help love how much Master and Mister Morgan praised him when he did something right. It was something he’d rarely if ever had as a child. Dad hadn’t cared whether he did anything right or not, long as he didn’t screw up completely, and followed orders, he didn’t get punished, and that was all that mattered to both his parents. The only one who’d ever cared about how Jensen felt about any of it, had been Josh. And once Josh had been sold… Jensen had figured no one would ever do so again.

Slave shows were notorious, slaves that did well on them, were prized nation wide. Slaves that failed at them, well they usually got sold pretty quickly, never to be heard from again. Master had Jensen watch several tapes of previous shows to get him ready for what would be awaiting him. None of it compared to actually being in one of them. 

When it was over and he was handed a ribbon for second place, Jensen couldn’t believe it. It was even harder to believe that he was actually proud of doing well at what was pretty much a glorified dog show. But he knew he’d earned it. 

Training after that beefed up, getting him ready for bigger shows, higher placement. Before long he was winning first place, and heading straight for the nationals. Master was by his side throughout all of it. And Jensen hated to admit how much he needed the comfort of his owner’s presence to get through any of the performances. 

He was in his last contest of the day, going through his routines, dancing with a ribbon, hitting every position within perfection when he saw him. Josh. Jensen almost lost his rhythm before collecting himself and continuing on. 

It was harder than he’d ever imagined anything being. He’d never considered having to show off what a good slave he was in front of the one person who’d ever meant more to him than his Master did now. But it was the only way he had to show Josh that he was fine, had to be fine, wasn’t it?

Josh looked terrible. He was wearing a cleaner’s outfit, and he had a large bruise covering over half his face. Jensen wanted to beg Master to be allowed to see him, but he didn’t want to make things harder for Josh, when he saw how Josh’s own owner treated him. 

“Jensen, boy?” Jensen quickly looked down. Master lifted his face, forcing him to look up. ”Hey there, you know I’d never treat you like that, don’t you?” Jensen knew he was insane, but he agreed, was this trust? Trusting his master to be good to him?

“it’s not that, Master.” Jensen whispered.

“Then what is it?” Master Jared looked so kind as he said that. 

“The slave, his name’s Josh. He’s… he was my brother.”

“Oh Jensen.” Jared pulled him into a hug. “It’s alright. I’m sure that Josh will be fine.” But Master didn’t seem to believe it either when Josh’ owner started growling at him in a drunk mumble about how Josh had screwed up everything. Meaning, everything that his owner had messed up by throwing over a bucket over a floor that Josh had just finished with.

Jensen gently sucked his master’s dick on the way back home, desperate to prove to himself just how good he had it. And when Master fucked him that night, Jensen didn’t even care that Master told him he couldn’t come.

It was their last class at Morgan’s School for Happy Slaves that evening.

Jensen shivered, proud and scared at the same time. He was a graduate now and other slaves looked for him as an example. Or so Mister Morgan and Master told him. He just hoped he did the school proud. 

He almost choked when he saw him, Josh. 

“Jeff did need a new assistant.” Master whispered to Jensen. Jensen wished he could show his gratitude. Instead he started thinking of how to convince his owner to buy Mac as well. Didn't Master's sister need a slave of her own by then? At least here Mac would be safe, and he'd be able to see her. Jensen knew he had only a few years left to prove himself. But with a Master as good as Jared, that was easy.

 

The end


End file.
